ass were laid at the bottom, and then Timothy said he knew
of a chaffinch's nest which had been built last year in a pear-tree
that grew up one side of the stable wall, and they might get it down,
and put this little lame fellow into it.

"But then," said Fanny, "what will the chaffinches do without a nest!"

"O, you don't understand," said Charles. "It is an empty nest, made
last year. It has no owners now."

[Illustration]

"Do get it, then, Timothy, please," cried Fanny.

Away went Timothy for the old chaffinch's nest, and Charles with him,
while Fanny remained with the nestling, standing beside the wire
lantern. They soon came back with the nest, which Fanny placed at the
bottom of the lantern.

By this time Mrs. Dowse, the cook, came into the yard smiling, and
bringing with her a saucer containing bread and milk and a quill, in
order that the nestling should have some supper. "O, thank you, Mrs.
Dowse," cried Fanny. "I had quite forgotten that he would want
something to eat. Will you teach us how to feed him?"

Mrs. Dowse took the nestling in her left hand, and a quill full of
bread and milk in the other, the nestling all the while making a great
kicking and struggling and resistance, not knowing what in the world
was going to be done to him. The first time, however, he opened his
bill to give a loud chirrup, as much as to say, "What are you about
with me, Mrs. Dowse?" the quick fingers of the smiling cook popped a
quill full of bread and milk down his throat. In a moment he opened
it wide for another! and wider still for another! and yet wider still
for one more! There was an end of all his resistance. He had found out
what Mrs. Dowse wanted to do to him, and was very much pleased at it.
In this way he was fed every day by Fanny, who soon learned to manage
it very neatly.

The papa of Charles and Fanny used to call the nestling "The Little
Foundling," and so did their mamma, but Fanny and Charles also gave
him the name of "Chirp." Poor little Chirp's feet did not get well. He
still continued quite lame, as the bones of his claws had all been
injured severely. In other respects he was very well; ate his food
with a great appetite, and seemed contented and happy. His lantern was
always hung in the pear-tree by the stable wall every fine day.

This little Foundling, however, was not the only bird in the house.
Fanny's uncle had brought her a beautiful canary on her last birthday,
and he was of the most gra